Beautiful Disaster
by BellatrixxL
Summary: Bellatrix has just finished school as the first wizarding war begins.  Not yet marked, not yet insane, her role in the Dark Lord's plan becomes pronounced as her marriage yields one of the most lethal partnerships the Wizarding World has seen.  semi-AU
1. Chapter 1

1.

Bellatrix stood surveying the back lawn of the sprawling manor, glass of wine in one hand, the other resting precariously on her chest. Her rings caught a rare flash of sunlight through the thunderheads which were rolling in, and drew her eye down to her perfectly manicured hand as another silent tear fell onto her unoccupied hand. Her eyes were greyer today than they were blue; the whites of her eyes more pink than they were white. She'd been married eight months, but she didn't feel like there would ever come a time where she didn't feel empty.

She looked down at the glass in her hand and watched herself pour the remainder of her wine onto the grass.

_Two hundred galleons a bottle, Bellatrix,_ she imagined her mother's voice snarling. _Two hundred galleons and you're using it to water the bloody lawn. _

But she would never know. This was a side of Bellatrix that she would never see. She'd gotten very good at putting up a front. She could show what she wanted to show, nothing more and nothing less. She was a perfect pureblood monster. Exactly what her mother had always wanted.

Bellatrix turned back to the manor, looking it over carefully. Rodolphus was still on an assignment, and as long as he was, it would be her responsibility to make sure that things were running smoothly. She was proud of her husband. He was a true asset to the Dark Lord and the cause, which they both supported. He was marked; he was in the Dark Lord's inner circle. As a pureblood, she couldn't have asked for more in a mate. But more than that, he was her everything. He was her support; he was her partner and her equal. As a wife, she could not have been more fortunate. He was madly in love with her, and she with him.

So, when he asked her to keep everything in order at the manor for the week while he was away, she was more than happy to agree. As she was not yet marked, Bellatrix knew that the best way to support the efforts of both her husband and the Death Eaters would be to make sure that their headquarters was undisturbed in the absence of those meant to protect it.

The manor itself had been a gift from her husbands' parents once they had graduated, in celebration of their marriage. It was the home that Rodolphus and his brother, Rabastan, had grown up in. They'd spent many years in the house, and it made it the ideal place for the young couple to live, as well as a sensible home out of which they could oversee the operations of the Death Eaters. Rodolphus knew every nook, cranny, hidden staircase, secret room, and dungeon within that house, which luckily made it easy when the two decided they needed to get away from the rest of the men.

Once the manor had been furnished for them and they had settled comfortably, the Dark Lord made it clear that he wished them to house a few of his servants, as some of them had been on the run from the Ministry for quite some time. Most of them were men who she had grown up around. Her father, Cygnus, was active among Voldemort's followers, and so she'd met many of the Death Eaters in her younger years. Macnair was one who she actually shared a close friendship with when she was a child. Yaxley had only been a few years older than her in school, and they'd been in the same house. Many other Death Eaters found themselves coming and going as they pleased, since most of the meetings were held at the Lestrange Manor. So, Bellatrix usually left the guest bedrooms prepared, and expected to have a few people who would stay a while before or after each of their meetings.

The Dark Lord's main reason for wanting to use Lestrange Manor as their headquarters was Bellatrix herself. When she had still been in school, he had taken her under his wing, trained her, and tested her to improve her combat and dueling skills. At the young age of eighteen, she still had a long way to go, but Voldemort was confident in her skills as a duelist, and felt no worry in leaving her alone to guard the house while the Death Eaters were away. She would take the mark eventually, but for now, he decided that the best role for Bellatrix was that of housewife and future mother; she was to further the pureblood race.

_What perfect children Rodolphus and I will have_, she thought as thunder sounded above her. Looking around, she sighed, and headed for the manor. A house elf was waiting to open the door for her in a low bow, take the empty glass from her, and ask whether she required a shoe shining. Ignoring the beast, Bellatrix walked quickly to Great Room, where the men were usually bustling around. The normally lively house seemed dull and dead in their absence.

Ten days ago, the Dark Lord was seated at the head of the now empty banquet table. Ten days ago, he had laid out his plan. A few Death Eaters were being sent to France to return immediately with the French Prime Minister. He knew too much, and he was about to organize a peace treaty with the Ministry of Magic. Of course, this was unacceptable. Peace with muggles was not what the Death Eaters have been working to achieve, not what Voldemort had set his sights on. The entire undertaking would take five days.

Rodolphus' involvement in the plan had been a last minute modification. His father, Lord Lestrange, had been the intended translator on the mission, but as he was currently tied up in a few affairs in Russia, Rodolphus had been the last minute solution. He had been informed the morning that they were to be leaving, and Bellatrix had been notified less than a half an hour before they apparated.

"Ma chérie," he had whispered in her ear, waking her. "My darling, they need me to go with them. They need me to translate." He brushed the hair off her cheek and pulled her against his chest, holding her possessively.

She hadn't immediately understood what he was saying. She assumed he was referring to something local, and that he would come back that evening, like always. She had yawned and thrown her arms around her husband's neck, planting tired kisses on his neck and chest. Though Rodolphus was only a couple years older than her (he was twenty one to her eighteen years), he was nearly a full foot taller, but his dark eyes still shone with youth and playfulness. She kissed her husband once more and threw herself dramatically backwards into the bed, making a quip about having made plans for them to spend the day cuddling.

When she finally got out of bed and noticed his packed bag, she knew that there was nothing that she could say that would change the Dark Lord's mind about Rodolphus' involvement in the kidnapping of the Prime Minister, so Bellatrix took a deep breath, and wished her love luck.

Now, nine days later, she spent nearly every moment wondering whether he'd be back. For the first couple days, she'd jumped every time she heard a house elf apparate, and after the fourth day of his absence, she'd forbidden them from doing so. So when she heard the "pop" of apparition, she immediately turned on her heel and ran into the foyer, drawing her wand instinctively.

She kept hope at the back of her mind, and advanced slowly towards the staircase. Above her, she could hear heavy footsteps making their way towards her. Keeping her eyes trained on a spot at the end of the hall, she stopped at the base of the staircase. This was unnecessary, however, as she heard the new arrival before she saw him.

"Evenin', girly."

At the top of the stairs, wearing his trademarked shit-eating grin, stood Fenrir Greyback.

"Greyback," she responded with a half-grin. "I wasn't expecting you. Come with me." Bellatrix lowered her wand and walked into a smaller room off the foyer, her personal office, Greyback lumbering behind her. She took a seat behind her desk and kicked her feet up, motioning for him to sit across from her. She snapped her fingers and a house elf stepped out of a small passage from the corner of the room, bowing so low his forehead was mere inches off the ground.

"Bottle o' Firewhiskey," the werewolf said offhandedly before turning back to Bellatrix, who waved the elf off. "We have business to discuss."

"Do we? I've heard of no such business. You haven't been around in months, you never write, never come to any of the dinners I've invi—"

"You know why I haven't come, Miss Black. It wasn't anything against you."

Greyback had trained Bellatrix for a few months during her years at Hogwarts. He'd taught her much of what she knew, and had exposed her to the harsh realities of life beyond the entitlement brought upon her by her pureblood lineage. They were friends, despite the incident that brought their training sessions to a close.

"Yes," Bellatrix responded harshly. "My husband. And now that he's away, you see it fit once more to drop in for a visit. How very brave of you. And it's Lestrange, not Black. But you'd have known that if you'd responded to the wedding invitation."

Taken aback at Bellatrix's sudden hostility, Greyback pushed forward with what he'd come to discuss. Normally he'd have wasted no time putting the girl in her place, but his orders no longer included punishing her insolence. This time, the tables seemed to have turned a bit, and this _child_ was the only one who stood in the way of ensuring the safety of his pack from the wrath of the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters.

"I'm not here to argue 'bout weddings or titles _Miss Lestrange,_" he said, mimicking her tone. "And I don't want to waste your _precious_ bloody time. I'm here on orders from the Dark Lord himself."

Bellatrix giggled and played along. "_The Dark Lord himself?_ Oh, I see. It's strange that the Dark Lord have made plans that involved my home and my cooperation, yet would not have contacted me." She finished with a smile, eagerly awaiting Greyback's response.

"Don't you trust me, girly?"

"Trust," she snarled loudly, standing so quickly that her chair fell over behind her. She walked slowly towards Greyback, who was looking up at her emotionlessly. She continued on as she reached down into her boot, spitting her words at him. "Don't I _trust_ you? How dare you ask me that question? I trusted you with my life, Fenrir. But any _trust_, any _confidence_, any _belief_ that I may have had in you was absolutely obliterated that night."

Bellatrix was standing directly in front of him now. Her face was only inches from his and the knife she'd pulled from her boot was nervously close to his throat. Greyback had never been a particularly eloquent speaker, so especially now, face to face with an angry witch, a witch whom he'd trained personally in the art of torture and dueling, he bit his tongue.

Bellatrix stood over him for a minute, as if expecting an answer. By the time she decided that there was nothing that he could say that would appease her, it felt like it had been an eternity. An eternity spent choking back tears as she looked into the eyes of the friend who'd let her down. She stepped away from him and leaned against the small desk. Her breathing was steadying, and Greyback could hear her heart calming.

"What business do you have to discuss," she managed.

"I was sent here," Greyback began cautiously, "to discuss a new system with you. A group. Led by me, overseen and _controlled_ by you." The word was sour on his tongue. _Controlled_ by this child? The Dark Lord must have been running low on Death Eaters to put someone so young in such a position.

Bellatrix straightened regally at the word. Her face contorted into a twisted sort of smile. Greyback had seen this look once before—it had led to the earning of one of his many scars; the one in question being a large one across his throat and chest.

"_Controlled by me,_" she repeated, nodding. "Sounds good on paper, I'm sure. What does it involve?"

"It would be a group of us, me and some o' the pack, who would be in charge of snatching up 'undesirables.' _You_ would tell us who we would need to find, and we would find them, and bring them to you, or to the Dark Lord, or…"

"…or?"

"Or take care of 'em ourselves," he finished with a grin. He watched for a moment, as she seemed to be mulling over the potential consequences or rewards of her own involvement.

"I admire your dedication to your sadism," she said finally. "So, essentially, you and your _gang_ will be apprehending the people that we need you to, and bringing them to us to be dealt with?"

Greyback nodded in confirmation.

"And I am to be the one who tells you who is needed, and when they are needed by?"

Another silent nod. She could see that Greyback was absolutely disgusted at himself for having to come to her, and to have orders handed down from her.

"Lovely," she exclaimed after a long minute. Pushing herself up from the table, she walked over to the bottle of firewhiskey that must have been brought in during their conversation, turning a glass over on the table and filling it. She held the glass out to Greyback and waited for him to start drinking before speaking again.

"Will it just be your men," she continued, "or will there be others?"

"Others?"

"Yes, _others_. Non-werewolves? Wizards? Surely this is an effort to free up the time of the Death Eaters, so that they aren't spending the majority of their time kidnapping."

Greyback thought for a moment before speaking again. "Just us."

Bellatrix nodded, and then allowed herself to be lost in thought for a few minutes. Bellatrix knew Greyback—probably better than he realized. She knew that he thought she was a stupid child, and that the only reason he would offer himself to her in this way was because he would get something out of it. Still, the idea of being in command of a group of werewolves was exciting to her, and if, in fact, the Dark Lord had commanded it, she couldn't refuse.

"Alright," she replied after he'd finished his drink. "I'm in, but on one condition. I'm going to recruit a few more people for your team." She raised her hand to silence him before he had the chance to retort. "It's not that I don't think your pack can handle it. But there are certain times of month that we may need work done and, let's face it, you and your boys will be out of commission a few days a month."

Greyback sat back in his chair and curled his lip a bit, looking Bellatrix over and toying with the idea of killing her then and there. It had nothing to do with the full moon and the transformation of his men. She doubted whether they were capable of staying on task, whether they could be trusted. But what could he do? His pack was counting on him, and this was his only means of redeeming himself in the eyes of the Dark Lord. So he nodded stiffly, though every muscle fought against the action.

Bellatrix stood and smiled, handing him the nearly-full bottle of firewhiskey. "Fantastic. I'll begin interviewing within the week." She walked towards the door of the small room before looking back at him curiously, as if wondering why he'd not left yet.

"One last thing," Greyback said as he stood slowly. "The Dark Lord wanted me to tell you, 'three days.' No clue what he means by that, but that's 'is message, so, there. I delivered."

With a loud crack, Greyback was gone, and Bellatrix was once again alone in her large home.

_Three days,_ she repeated to herself. It had already been nine. Uncertainty had been replaced by hope once again, and she looked forward to the time, three nights from now, when she could once again sleep soundly.


	2. Chapter 2

2.

Rodolphus had never been away for this long. Typically he would leave in the morning and be home by dinner, as if he had a normal, ministry job. The truth was, his "job" was far from normal, it was far from safe, and Bellatrix knew it. She tried not to let it terrify her, but for the past eleven days, she'd allowed it to consume her.

_Your emotions are going to get you in trouble, Bella,_ she told herself constantly. She knew that it was up to her to make sure that nothing went wrong, and that if she allowed her emotions to get the better of herself, she'd be weak when she needed to be strong. She constantly remembered the Dark Lord's words the night he found her naked and bleeding in the woods: "You must not allow yourself to be vulnerable, otherwise, you will not survive."

Normally, when those words echoed in her mind, she would reach for Rodolphus' hand. Her need for him was wholly emotional. They'd been married eight months, yet the marriage remained unconsummated. It was not for lack of attraction, Bellatrix and Rodolphus had been mad about each other since before they wed. The problem was rooted in wolves.

Bellatrix's training had been overseen mostly by Fenrir Greyback. From the time she was sixteen, she would be taken away from Hogwarts by him on weekends, and taught in the harsh wilderness of nearby mountains. Summer, winter, and spring alike, they trained. She had learned to survive with the pack, without the comforts and amenities of the privileged life she had led for so long. Despite the fact that they were, in her eyes, tainted beings, she had grown fond of their company, and had become close friends with Greyback.

Their training sessions were cut short abruptly when Greyback allowed a wandering werewolf to stay with them for the night. Bellatrix wandered off into the woods in the early morning, and, seeing an opportunity, the wanderer followed, attacked, and raped her. Lord Voldemort came around just in time to kill the wolf and offer Bellatrix a bit of advice about better protecting herself before disapparating, leaving her with a very confused and pissed off werewolf.

She'd never forgotten what the Dark Lord had told her, and she'd never fully recovered from the incident. From that moment, Bellatrix considered herself dirty, unfit to be touched by a pureblood. Rodolphus, in love with Bellatrix as he was, had made the decision not to inform their parents, and the betrothal continued as planned. They had a Yule wedding, which took place over her break from school during her seventh year. Though Bellatrix had never expressly conveyed that she did not want to be intimate, Rodolphus thought it best to give her space.

Their relationship was in no way based on sex, and this comforted Bellatrix. To know that Rodolphus loved her, regardless of whether she was willing to give herself to him, allowed her a peace of mind that she would not have had otherwise. She did love him, and eventually she would give in to what they both desired, but not until she was sure that she could have him without it being tainted by memories of the wolf.

So when the twelfth day came around, the day Greyback had indicated, it was strange to Bellatrix that she was suddenly overcome with a longing for him. Her desire was carnal and raw; she wanted nothing more than to drag him up to their bedroom and allow him to consume her. She assumed that it was because she was not used to him being gone, and busied herself with meaningless tasks in order to quell her excitement. She took to arranging candles and flowers, even rearranging the great room, which she knew would be bustling with activity as soon as the men arrived back.

She had even allowed herself to become so enthralled with changing the colors of the curtains in the hallway that she almost didn't notice when a large owl swooped in and dropped a letter on a table by her. She nearly ignored the letter until she recognized the markings on the owl's face. Fearing the worst, she opened the emerald envelope and unfolded the letter, which had been written in ink of the same colour.

_"I will be arriving promptly at seven. _

_Roast duck will be ready upon my arrival._

_Our "guest" will also be requiring a room,_

_The dungeon will suffice. "_

It wasn't signed, but she knew exactly whom the letter was from. There was no mistaking the handwriting. A cold rush ran through her body, temporarily raising the hairs on her arms. A smile spread quickly across her face at the idea of having the Dark Lord as a guest in her home.

"Seven," she read aloud, looking up at the large grandfather clock at the end of the hall and snapping her fingers. As soon as the elf was within earshot she began barking orders. "Curtains- green. Master bedroom, prepared within the hour. Roasted duck by five minutes to seven. Clean the great room. You and the other four have three hours—two hours and forty five minutes- to make this home spotless."

She waved the elf off and brushed past him, nearly knocking him over in her rush to get down to the dungeon. It had been used many times, and as such, was already well equipped for it's purpose, however, she suspected it had not been cleaned since it's last use.

Her suspicion was confirmed as soon as she opened the large, metal door. She threw her hands over her face and it took all her willpower to keep from bringing up her lunch. The mudblood who was once her herbology teacher was now nothing more than a rotting corpse in her dungeon. She muttered thanks that the dungeon was only accessible from the outside, and snapped her fingers once more, ordering the elf down into the depths of what some would consider their own private hell, while she went back upstairs to make herself presentable.

The time passed slowly, she could smell the wonderful aromas of the duck, and the potatoes that the elves were cooking with it. She could hear rushing downstairs; the elves were hard at work cleaning the house. According to the large grandfather clock standing in the corner, she still had over an hour. She walked over to her large armoire and stood surveying her options. Given the evening's company, she decided to dress a bit more formally than she normally would have. She pulled out a blue dress, then a green one, then red, hanging them next to each other for comparison after holding them up in the mirror. She let out an exasperated sigh and then took a step back, looking at herself critically.

Bellatrix sat on the bed and unlaced her boots, kicking them off and pulling her pants off with them, throwing them into a heap at the foot of the bed. She didn't take off the shirt she was wearing, though. No, the shirt was Rodolphus', and it would stay on for the time being. She still had time before she needed to be ready. Looking at herself in the mirror once more, she remembered that the Dark Lord's return meant that Rodolphus would be coming home as well.

_He's coming home._

She thought better about calling for a house elf; they were all busy preparing the rest of the house for the Dark Lord's arrival, so she took the task of straightening their room upon herself. Scurrying around like an excited child, she threw clothing into piles and made the bed. She lit a few candles and smiled contentedly as the sweet smell of cinnamon filled the room. A crash came from downstairs, followed by a wail of self-inflicted punishment from one of the elves. When she looked at the clock, she had only an hour left.

Dragging her feet back to the mirror, she once again held the dresses up in front of her, one by one. The green was too cheesy. She didn't want to seem as if she was sucking up to him… The blue washed her out. She could hear Narcissa screaming somewhere in the back of her mind.

"And the red makes me look like a harlot," she said aloud. "Fantastic."

"I always thought you looked amazing in red," her husband's voice came from the doorway, shocking her. She dropped the dress in her momentary surprise, and Rodolphus raised an eyebrow and grinned when he realized she was wearing just his shirt and nothing more. "However, I think I've found a look that I like best.


	3. Chapter 3

3.

Bellatrix cleared the room in mere seconds, throwing herself into her husband's arms. Rodolphus smelled terrible. She got the sneaking suspicion that he'd not actually showered since she'd last seen him, but that somewhere on their travels, they may have flown through a storm. This did not deter her, however, from running her fingers through his dirty hair and running her hands over his greasy face, nor did it keep her from kissing him desperately. She was an alcoholic rediscovering her favourite brand of liquor, and she couldn't get enough.

Rodolphus was not used to the fervor his wife was showing, though he could not have asked for a better homecoming. Wrapping one arm under his wife's arse, he lifted her off her feet, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. He cradled her face in his free hand and smiled at her adoringly.

"Did you miss me, _mon amour_," he cooed, then continued without waiting for her response, "My Bella, I can't tell you how I've missed you. You look just the same as when I left you." He looked her face over again, inspecting her from the roots of her hair down to her jawline.

"Sorry to disappoint," she laughed, kissing him once more, and then resting her forehead on his.

"No, _tant mieux_," he responded quickly. "I'd have been devastated if you weren't the same slice of perfection that you were when I left. I, on the other hand, am a bit worse for the wear."

Bellatrix giggled childishly and lowered her voice to a sultry whisper.

"My love, you smell horrid." She laughed again. "You should shower before dinner." Rodolphus laughed at her comment about his hygiene.

"Do I have to leave you?" He pulled her tighter against him, as if trying to prove to her that he was unwilling to let her go.

"It's not leaving me, it's showering." She lowered herself and pried his arms off of her. "Besides, you'll feel much better after you've washed up."

The truth was, Bellatrix did not want him to shower. She wanted to pull him into bed, regardless of his current vagabond-like state, and lose herself in him. She missed him when he was gone, and now that he was back, she realized just how much she truly had mourned his absence.

After a bit more coaxing and countless kisses, Rodolphus had gone off to shower and left Bellatrix to get dressed. She could hear the water running in the bathroom as she returned the green and blue dresses to their places in her wardrobe. She pulled Rodolphus' shirt over her head took the red dress off the hanger, but before she could dress herself, she found herself stalking into the bathroom, stripping off her undergarments and pulling her hair down as she tiptoed across the granite floor.

Rodolphus hardly had the chance to notice her presence beside him before she was pushing him up against the wall, using all of her body weight to keep him there. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his face down to hers, and stood on her toes to reach his lips. She wound her legs around his middle and tightened her grip around his neck. Her fingers wound around his soapy hair, pulling playfully.

Through the steam and hot water, his hands found their way to her waist and the small of her back. Bellatrix had never engaged him this way, nor put him in any sort of position like this in the past. It was as if she had been reawakened, and this was a reincarnation of his wife that he could get used to. He ran his hands over every inch of her skin that he could get his hands on. He ran a rough hand down her thigh, allowing his nails to drag a bit, drawing a small moan from beneath her kiss.

Bellatrix could feel Rodolphus growing against her. She'd never allowed herself to touch him before, always feeling herself unworthy, but for the first time, Bellatrix wanted to touch, feel, taste, and experience every inch of him. She wanted to feel him moving inside of her, to make love to her wonderful husband.

But she couldn't. Not yet, not like this. As immediately as she'd taken hold of him, she released her eager husband, stepping back away from him apologetically. She shook her head and fled the bathroom wordlessly.

Bellatrix walked back out into the bedroom, allowing herself to leave a trail of water from the shower to her chair by the window, where she sat in silence as Rodolphus finished washing himself. She was absolutely ashamed of herself. She had never slept even _partially_ nude around him, and here she was throwing herself at him while he was in the shower. As she sat contemplating going the way of a house elf and punishing herself, Rodolphus was wrapping himself in a towel and walking up next to her, worried for her.

"Bellatrix," he said gently, kneeling beside her and taking her face in his hand, turning her so they were face to face. "Bellatrix, you promised me. Do you remember? You promised me that you wouldn't do this to yourself anymore. You said that you would grow from it and be stronger."

"I did grow, Rodolphus. But growing emotionally doesn't make me any more worthy of you." She pulled her face free of his grasp and turned to look out the window. She wanted him. Even now, the moment had passed, and all she could think about was the feel of his hands, the warmth of his breath, the longing in his kiss…

When she looked back at him, he was watching her with a pained expression, his eyes filled with concern. He was perfect. A perfect pureblood husband, a wonderful man, a competent wizard, one of the Dark Lord's followers… Rodolphus was everything she'd ever wanted in a husband. Most importantly, he wanted her the way she craved him. Everything that screamed out for him within her was mirrored by everything inside him that yearned for her.

"I love _you_, Bellatrix, I want _you_. That's all."

When her lips crashed into his, it became apparent that his thought did not need finishing. Sliding off the chair and pressing herself against him, kissing him passionately, she realized what he'd been trying to tell her all along. He truly did not love her any less, did not want her any less, despite what had been done to her.

Rodolphus stood, pulling her off the floor.

"Come, my love," he began. "It's nearly seven. The Dark Lord will be arriving soon, and as much as I love having you naked in my arms, I seriously doubt that's what he's expecting."

He grinned and kissed her once more as he let go of her, walking across the room to his own wardrobe. Bellatrix admired her husband as he walked away, and caught herself smiling as he let the towel fall to the ground around his feet. They dressed quickly, exchanging flirtatious looks every so often, and just before seven they walked down the stairs, arm in arm, to wait for the Dark Lord to arrive.


	4. Chapter 4

4.

Voldemort apparated into the foyer at Lestrange Manor at seven o'clock sharp. His hosts were waiting loyally, and they bowed immediately upon his arrival, Bellatrix notably more reverent than Rodolphus. He'd always found himself fascinated by this young girl. At the age of eighteen, she was well on her way to becoming a great asset to him. Fiercely loyal and dedicated, she was the perfect example for other pureblood women to follow. Loyal to her husband, and loyal to the Dark Lord himself.

"Rodolphus," he said plainly, wasting no time, "you proved very useful to the group. Your contribution did not go unnoticed."

He watched as Rodolphus straightened significantly, pride filling his chest. It had always amused him to watch the difference in the way that his followers carried themselves before and after talking to him. Had Rodolphus been scorned, for example, he'd have shrunk a few inches, and the look of pride would have been replaced by that of a whipped dog. Bellatrix seemed to bask in her husband's pride, standing by his side with the silence and grace that was expected of her.

"And you, Bellatrix," he continued, softening his voice as if cooing at her. "You have come to an arrangement with Greyback, I hear. This is most ideal. We shall discuss it further over dinner."

Bellatrix's reaction was much different from Rodolphus, yet exactly what he'd expected. The look of pride that she'd worn merely seconds before while regarding Rodolphus had vanished entirely. The pride in her eyes turned to a longing adoration, her cheeks flushing slightly, and her lips turned upwards into a shy smile. She'd always seemed flustered around him, especially when he spoke her name. It had turned into a bit of a game for the Dark Lord; coaxing the girl into betraying her lust right in front of her husband. She bowed her head in acknowledgement of his praise, yet neither she nor her husband spoke a word.

_Just like the good, little, purebloods that you are,_ he thought to himself in amusement. _Never speaking until being spoken to. _

Voldemort took Bellatrix's arm and led her into the Dining Room, Rodolphus following closely. The Dark Lord took his seat at the head of the table, allowing the young couple the privilege of sitting on either side of him. Bellatrix, because of their positions as they entered the room, sat on his right, Rodolphus on his left.

_A woman,_ he thought_, nay, a girl, sitting at my right hand. This night will be more amusing than I could ever have hoped._

Bellatrix and Rodolphus sat in silence while the Dark Lord ate. He took his time eating, not because he was particularly enjoying the meal, in fact, duck wasn't very high on his list of favorites, but because he wanted to see how long he could keep them in silence before opening a discussion.

He regaled them with ideologies, his vision of a pureblooded future, and stories of those who had fallen in his path. While Rodolphus listened with the polite poise and respect that was typical of his upbringing, Bellatrix seemed to hang on his every word. Her eyes would light up when he would mention something favorable, and, during one story about a man who had earned a most violent death, he could practically hear Bellatrix's rage through her unsteady breaths.

He smiled once, knowingly. The girl was his. In a way that she would never be Rodolphus', in a way that her unfortunate husband could never even hope to have her, he had managed to ensnare the girl's heart in his cold, manipulative grasp. Whether or not she mattered to him meant little, it was time for him to seal her loyalty. Her agreement with Greyback would be the perfect way for him to test her.

"Bellatrix," he said finally, growing bored of the same stories he'd told to countless sets of eager ears, "what of your agreement with Greyback?"

The girl held her head high and leaned into the table, speaking excitedly.

"Greyback and his men have offered their services in the capture of undesirables, My Lord," she practically sang. "Greyback tells me that it is My Lord's wish that I be the one to oversee them and hand down their orders. I cannot express my gratitude, and the honor, of My Lord trusting me with such a task." She bowed her head and remained silent.

Her first words of the evening, and she had obviously been waiting quite some time to thank him for the opportunity to take a larger role in his plans. He curled his lip into a smug smile.

"Were there conditions?"

"Yes, My Lord. I am going to be looking to take on additional people for the cause. As of right now, it is just Greyback and a few of his pack members. I thought it might be wise to have some in the group who were not wolves."

The Dark Lord nodded at Bellatrix as she fell silent yet again. He knew she was wary of trusting werewolves, especially given her past experiences, yet he also knew that her dislike for them was much deeper than that. They were impure beings, and that made them beneath her, like much else.

He held her gaze for a few more seconds, just long enough to make her breath catch in her throat and force her to avert her eyes. He quickly shifted his stare to Rodolphus, who was watching his wife stoically. This brought another quick smile to the Dark Lord's lips as he moved to include Rodolphus in the discussion.

"And you, Rodolphus," he began slowly. "What do you think of your wife's decision to hire non-wolves?"

Rodolphus dragged his eyes away from his wife to meet the gaze of the man watching him as if he could be his next meal.

"I agree with Bellatrix," Rodolphus said poignantly. Voldemort watched as Rodolphus took a few moments before continuing, choosing his words very carefully. "I think it would prove beneficial to My Lord to have others in your employ who would not be out of commission a couple of nights every month."

Voldemort's lips tightened into a cruel smile as he responded.

"It was I who sent Greyback to Bellatrix with plans to create this network of snatchers. It was I who made the decision to have werewolves fill those positions. Are you saying that I was wrong in my judgment, Rodolphus?"

Rodolphus' eyes flickered with what could easily have been mistaken for terror. His breathing quickened and he pulled his hands defensively inward, as if protecting himself from any poisons that the Dark Lord's words may have carried with them.

"Of course not, My Lord, I was simply remarking on the untrustworthiness of wolves…"

"Your wife is still young, Rodolphus. She is learning. She is blinded by biases, and may not be able to see that which should be clear to someone like you. Someone who has spent time among my ranks; someone who has been an integral part of my work." He watched as Bellatrix's face flooded with color, and Rodolphus drew in on himself even further.

"Do not make the mistake, Rodolphus," Voldemort continued, "of assuming that you possess the wisdom required to make the decisions which should be left to me."

He turned to face Bellatrix once again, his expression softening, and he reached out to take her hand in his own. He held her hand delicately and stroked the skin on the back of her palm. He was, of course, making a point to Rodolphus, but if he could make them both squirm, so much the better.

Voldemort stood and pulled Bellatrix to her feet, grabbing her by the waist and leading her in a slow waltz around the room. He waved his hand to produce a soft tune from an unused record player in the corner. He didn't need to look at Rodolphus to feel the envy and rage that was radiating from the young wizard's every pore. Besides, he couldn't break eye contact with Bellatrix in the middle of their dance. He twirled her gracefully and pulled her back to him, holding her firmly against himself.

He continued their dance in silence, twirling her ever so often just to feel her reaction when he would resume his hand's position on the small of her back. His steady breathing was countered by deep breaths that caused her breasts to rise and fall dramatically from underneath the soft fabric of her gown and a few fallen curls.

Finally, he stepped back from her and waited for her to curtsy before stepping closer to her once more, softly brushing her fallen curls off her chest and tucking them back behind her ear, allowing his hand to rest on her neck. He leaned in close to her; he could feel her heart rate quickening beneath his touch. He moved his lips to her ear, and whispered to her softly.

"Don't let the non-wolves outnumber the pack or they'll feel threatened and kill the others. You have two weeks to get everything in working order. Do not fail me." He tenderly kissed her neck and then released her. "Rodolphus, come, let's go talk to our friend in the cellar."

He turned on his heel and walked coolly out into the hallway, Rodolphus following obediently, leaving Bellatrix in a state of utter confusion in the middle of the empty dining room.


	5. Chapter 5

5.

Angelica Prince allowed herself to be led out of the front door of the crowded bar by a dark haired stranger. She'd spent the majority of the night cozying up to a bottle of rather strong tequila, so it was a wonder that she was still able to comprehend what was going on. She dragged her feet as he led her around a corner and into the alley behind the bar.

Pushing her up against the cold brick wall, the stranger stood and inspected her hungrily. He pushed her dark hair out of her face, revealing dark brown eyes, which shone against an otherwise plain face. He kissed her sloppily, leaving the taste of whiskey and cigars burning in her throat. Eagerly, she pulled him forward to taste him again.

His hands travelled down her front, ignoring her chest, fumbling towards the hem of her skirt. In the cold of the winter, this girl was wearing a grey skirt, accessorized with horribly matched legwarmers over her knee high flat boots.

"Easy access," he grunted, his breath warm on her neck.

She'd been anticipating this. It was the same dance every night, only the venue changed. A few drinks followed by inane conversation and a trip down the alley. Tonight she found herself in a small corner of London known as Knockturn Alley. A dreary place, especially this late in the evening, it didn't take her long to find a pub just like the ones she was used to. It was a night like any other.

She bit her lip as the man's fingers brushed a sweet spot and her eyes flicked upward momentarily, her ever fleeting attention being drawn to a poster on the wall opposite her. Suddenly bored with the man's hands, she squinted her eyes to try and read the posting a bit better. It only took the recognition of two words for her to take the initiative to push him away.

_Lestrange Manor__._

She'd heard of Lestrange Manor; the Dark Lord's most recent choice of headquarters. She strode quickly across the alley, ripping the parchment off the wall and reading it anxiously.

"Job openings," she read aloud, quietly, ignoring the frustrated protests of the man she'd just snubbed. "Meet with Bellatrix for details."

_Lestrange Manor_, she thought again. _Bellatrix._

Angelica didn't have to be one of the pureblood elite to recognise these names. Rodolphus Lestrange had been in her year at Hogwarts, and Bellatrix had been just a few years behind them. More importantly, they were avid supporters of the Dark Lord.

Angelica was born to a squib and a muggle, and had never forgiven her mother for spoiling her purity, even after she'd taken the squib's life. Her father was a muggle named Cooper, but when Angelica had learned of her pureblood lineage, she immediately adopted the surname of her mother's relatives- Prince. She'd been a drifter of sorts since she killed her family, living where she could, eating when she could. A job was exactly what she'd been looking for. A job with protection; one where she could express her hatred for muggles without being lambasted.

She'd nearly forgotten about the man she'd accompanied into the alley. She was suddenly snapped out of her reverie when his rough hand grabbed her by the arm and whipped her around. Quickly, instinctively, she drew her wand, aiming it at his chest.

"Avada Kedavra!"

There was a burst of green, then his eyes became vacant, his mouth gaped, and his grasp fell away. Angelica cringed a bit and brushed her arm off. She'd have killed him before it had gone any further, regardless. The thrill was in the chase and the capture. But now she had captured her prey, and she had no further use for him. She couldn't have him remembering her face. Just another ordinary night.

She looked at the picture on the parchment in her hand one last time, took a deep breath, and apparated.

[Author's note: Just introducing an OC. Figured this way was more entertaining than just reading a biography. Thank you all for the PMs and favorites xx]


	6. Chapter 6

6.

The picture Angelica had used as a reference point for her apparition was not, in fact, Lestrange Manor, but a property near to it, owned by a family of aristocratic muggles. There was, however, a sign on the wall surrounding the home, with instructions on how one was to find their way to Lestrange Manor, which she presumed had been enchanted so that it could not be found by the wrong people.

She'd followed the sign to the edge of this forest, and were it not for a single red rose, she may not have noticed the slight clearing. The path was small. It had been cleared a bit but that didn't keep her from having to duck around rogue branches and low hanging limbs every once in a while. She'd considered using her animagi abilities to continue on with ease, but didn't fancy the idea of showing up naked to request an audience with Bellatrix. A couple times her clothing caught on the protruding limbs and was torn.

_Pity_, she though. _And I'd just changed_.

As she stepped out of the clearing and walked up the slight hill, Lestrange Manor appeared before her slowly. Much larger and more Victorian than the apparition point, the manor was exactly the sort of place that Angelica had imagined that Rodolphus and his new wife would live. She found herself wondering whether they had their own Quidditch pitch; remembering Rodolphus and his triumph in leading Slytherin to the house cup in their seventh year.

She approached the front gate, noting both that it was guarded, and that the path she'd taken to find it was not actually the entrance, and was most likely just a way to keep filth like her from marring the appearance of the front lawn. Fifty yards out, the guards were fixated on her, appearing amused.

"Where do you think you're going," the first one asked as if she was a child.

It was apparent that neither of them had considered the idea of a female applying for any sort of position that they could be offering. They had probably taken one look at this girl, walking towards them in boots, jeans, and a beaten pea coat, and written her off as a practical joke, or the next notch in their bedpost.

Angelica exhaled in an attempt to keep her temper from getting the better of her. She couldn't stand it when people talked down to her, especially people who's ass she felt she could hand to them on a silver platter without breaking a sweat. She held up the poster, letting the advertisement speak for itself. The two men exchanged amused glances and opened the gates. As she walked up the stairs to the front door, she could hear the men roaring with laughter.

She took another deep breath to regain her composure, raking her fingers through her hair to make it appear presentable. She smoothed the front of her coat and waited patiently on the porch, as she had been told to do. She looked across the rolling landscape, taking everything in.

_Are those hippogriffs? I thought they were illegal…_

She turned quickly as the front door opened and out walked a man who couldn't have been much older than she was. His unruly brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail that fell between his shoulder blades. He was wearing a leather bridge coat, a muted scarf, and had on boots that nearly matched her own. He was walking with a spring in his step, so she could only assume that his interview had just gone rather well.

"Evenin'," he sang at her jovially.

Angelica nodded in acknowledgement as he brushed past her, looking at the house elf that was holding the door open, waving her inside. She stepped over the threshold and followed the elf through the long entry hall. She passed a room that was filled with men who were talking loudly enough to be heard through the door. This seemed to affirm the rumours about Lestrange Manor being the new Death Eater Headquarters. She looked around at the family portraits as she was ushered towards a room at the very end of the hall.

The elf pushed open the door, yet didn't set foot into the room. Walking past the creature, she could see Bellatrix sitting by the fire with a cup of tea. She had a large file sitting in her lap, and on the ground next to her was a box that contained countless files just like it.

_Shit_, Angelica said to herself. _Was I supposed to bring a resume?_

She approached Bellatrix slowly, looking around the room. There were no pictures, no tapestries. This room was decorated in a way that was completely different from the rest of the house. The neutral colors of the hallway were further dimmed by the green of the walls. On the fireplace mantle a snitch buzzed around under a glass lid.

"Sit."

Bellatrix's sharp voice drew Angelica's attention. She took a seat across from Bellatrix and watched wordlessly as an elf poured her a cup of tea. Bellatrix continued to flip through the file with apparent boredom. On the table next to them sat one file.

"Scabior," Angelica read aloud.

"The snatcher you no doubt passed on your way in," Bellatrix replied without looking up. "I've just hired him. Only one more position to fill. Who are you?"

"Angelica Prince."

"And why are you here, Angelica Prince?"

"I suppose I'm applying to be a snatcher."

She'd finally managed to get Bellatrix's attention. Bellatrix looked up from the large file interestedly, and Angelica thought she noticed a faint grin flick across Bellatrix's lips. She watched as Bellatrix threw the file she'd been reading into the large box and folded her hands in her lap.

"What experience do you have?"

"I have a lot of experience. If you tell me what the job entails, I could narrow it to the experience that I think would be most relevant."

Another subtle grin from Bellatrix meant that Angelica's brash attitude had not sullied any positive impression that she may have made on the witch questioning her. A moment passed before Bellatrix responded.

"You would be assisting me in the "forceful recruiting" of particular witches and wizards, some of whom are Ministry officials. You would be bringing them back to Lestrange Manor to be our "guests," and then you would be denying the entire operation to anyone and everyone who asks."

Angelica sat in silence for a minute. Forceful Recruiting. So, the job of a snatcher was exactly what the name suggested. She was applying for a job as a professional kidnapper.

"I've lived on my own since I graduated from Hogwarts. I killed my family when I was seventeen and I've been a vagrant of sorts ever since. In my travels, I've managed to come across several people who wanted me dead, yet, here I am. I'm an animagi, and believe me when I tell you that that means that I can run—fast. Four years I've been evading the Ministry, and for four years I've been "disposing of" anyone who could have brought the Ministry any closer to finding me. I suppose, in essence, whether you accept me or not, I am a snatcher."

Angelica paused for a brief moment before continuing.

"Though, I suppose I would enjoy the task more if I was being paid for it." A smug grin spread across her face as she sat back in her chair and watched Bellatrix, who seemed to be digesting the sudden abundance of information that had been supplied by this previously unknown girl. As she seemed to be formulating an appropriate response, someone entering the room while a house elf protested loudly broke the silence. Both women turned to face the intruder.

"Bellatrix," Rodolphus exclaimed, nearly out of breath. "Bellatrix, come with me I need to show you someth—"

His eyes had settled on Angelica, and he was looking at her with a narrowed gaze, as if trying to place her. She allowed him to stare for a few moments before she stood and walked over to him, holding her hand out as if waiting for a handshake.

"Angelica Cooper, well, Prince now. We were Slytherins in the same year at Hogwarts."

Rodolphus eyes softened with realization and he took her hand once more as Bellatrix let out a small noise behind them.

"That's why you seemed so familiar," she said finally, "you were only a couple years ahead of me. But you were Cooper back then…" Angelica nodded in agreement, looking back to Rodolphus.

"I was just speaking with Bellatrix about the possibility of me becoming a snatcher."

Rodolphus looked at Bellatrix and then back to Angelica, clapping Angelica on the back and smiling.

"I'm sure we could at least test you out, what do you think, Bella? Not a guaranteed position, but at least give her the opportunity to prove herself. She is a Slytherin, after all."

Bellatrix smiled politely and nodded at her husband. Angelica made a mental note that Bellatrix seemed to give in to her husband rather easily. She liked keeping a mental list of peoples' weaknesses in case she ever needed to get herself out of a tight spot later.

"Thank you both," Angelica replied calmly. She would have liked to display more thanks, considering that they were doing her a favour, but she also disliked the idea of them doing her a favour. She wasn't being accepted because she was the best for the position; in fact, she wasn't even being accepted. She couldn't help but wonder whether they would have considered her if she'd not been one of Rodolphus' friends from school.

"Just head upstairs and see Sebastien," Rodolphus continued with a smile. "He'll check you out and make sure you're healthy enough to work with us."

"Is that Sebastien Diederich?" Angelica had been in school with him, as well. A couple years behind her, the peculiar Ravenclaw had been known for his prodigious skills in healing; in fact, it had become the school joke that even as a fourth year, Sebastien could have easily replaced the school's resident Mediwitch. A smile spread across her face as Rodolphus nodded in affirmation.

_Well, if nothing else, I'll be in good hands here,_ she thought. Angelica turned once more to Bellatrix and bowed her head slightly, then turned and headed for the door.

"Be here tomorrow morning at ten sharp," Bellatrix called after her.

She threw up a hand in acknowledgement and continued towards the stairs, taking them two at a time. Downstairs she could hear Rodolphus carrying on about a new Broom that was on the market, and she couldn't help but laugh to herself.

Some things change, but nothing ever changes entirely.


	7. Chapter 7

7.

"Well, I can't pay you for that," Bellatrix said angrily, pointing at the struggling man on her dining room floor. **"**_That_ is not the man I instructed you to get."

She and Greyback had been going back and forth for the past several minutes. He insisted that the man writhing on the ground in front of her was the head of the Department of Mysteries, while she could hear, quite clearly, that it was not the man she was looking for.

"Look, girly, I don't know what you're playing at," Greyback growled, "but this is the man. Look at him. Look at the picture." He held the picture up in her face and pointed at the man on the ground.

"It is _not_ him, Greyback." Shoving his hand out of the way, she kneeled next to the man and grabbed him by the hair, showing his face to the wolf. "This is his face, yes. But I've met the head of the Department of Mysteries, and he has a very thick German accent. _This_ man very clearly has a Scottish accent. And now his face is changing."

Bellatrix shoved the man's face down onto the hardwood floor and turned to face Greyback. She could see Scabior, Angelica, and the rest of Greyback's pack with their faces pressed up against the window, waiting to see whether they'd get paid for their mucked up work. The impostor looked up at them, his face shifting and mutating. The effects of a polyjuice potion were wearing off quickly.

Greyback grabbed the back of the man's shirt and hauled him to his feet and out the door without another word to Bellatrix. They'd been searching for this man for two weeks, and now they've brought her a polyjuiced guard. She heard the pop of apparition as it echoed through her foyer, thankful to finally be rid of the wolf. They were getting nearer to the Dark Lord's deadline and yet they were no closer to finding the department head.

_Brilliant._

Bellatrix sunk into the chair by the fire and watched the flames. If this went south, it was going to be her arse, and she knew it.

"So difficult to find good help these days."

Her mother's voice came unexpectedly from behind her, shocking her. She sat up in her chair quickly, holding her head high and forcing a welcoming smile.

"Mother," she sang, as if she'd been looking forward to the unexpected visit. "So wonderful to see you. Please, have a seat." She motioned to the empty chair opposite her and watched her mother cross the room gracefully.

As she walked, she could see Druella Black taking in every detail of her surroundings; the curtains, the art on the walls, even the tea set which was beautifully set on the table between them. Bellatrix's mother was the queen of criticism. She thrived on it, and Bellatrix had no doubt that her mother was here, once more, to alert her of her shortcomings and failings as a wife, and pureblood lady.

Druella took her seat and held her hand over her tea cup as an elf tried to fill it with hot water. She made a show of brandishing what appeared to be a new ring on her right hand, wiggling her fingers to draw Bellatrix's attention to the glistening green jewel.

"I won't be staying long," she said offhandedly to the elf, turning to face Bellatrix with a severe look in her eyes. "Why aren't you pregnant?"

Bellatrix was used to her mother's blunt approach to serious topics, but even so she was thrown off guard. She'd assumed that her mother had heard about her involvement with the snatchers and was going to tell her to be careful. But she was more unprepared for what came next.

Unsatisfied with Bellatrix's lack of response, Druella continued onward in her questioning.

"Is Rodolphus deficient in some way?" She lowered her voice a bit. "Is he not an adequate lover? Do you need me to help you find someone who can meet your nee-"

"Mother!" Bellatrix was thankful that she'd finally managed to find her voice. This barrage of questions had come from nowhere, and Bellatrix was in no mood to explain to her dear old mum why she was not, as of yet, with child.

"It's a legitimate question, Bellatrix! I'm worried." Druella reached out to take her daughter's hand compassionately, but Bellatrix withdrew immediately. "You've been married eight months. When your father and I were first married, we couldn't get enough of each other. I was pregnant with you within the first few weeks. Even then, that didn't stop us from wanting to explore each other-"

"No, Rodolphus is not deficient. Yes, he is an adequate lover. _No, I do not need you to help me with __**anything.**_" Bellatrix sat back into her chair, suddenly feeling as if she'd just run a marathon. When she spoke again, she made sure to choose her words extremely carefully. "Rodolphus has been busy in the service of the Dark Lord, and I have been busy under his orders as well. I don't think that right now is the best time for us to be sneaking off to '_explore each other,'_ when we should be fulfilling the wishes of the Dark Lord."

Bellatrix looked at her mother, whose posture had suddenly relaxed a bit. She silently rejoiced the fact that she had seemingly managed to offset her mother's one-woman campaign for grandchildren. They sat in silence for a while, neither of them sure what to say. Bellatrix could hear Rodolphus and Macnair talking in the room across the hall. She clung to his voice, imagining herself far away from her mother, far away from this conversation-

"Surely even by accident, though. I mean, Bellatrix, your father and I weren't necessarily _trying_ to get pregnant, it just happened! You were like a little miracle! If you and Rodolphus make love even _half_ as much as your father and I did, you should have been pregnant months ago…"

Her mother trailed off as a loud knock came to the door. Bellatrix stood as the elf opened the door and Rodolphus came strutting in.

"Ah, Druella," he announced jovially. "I thought I heard your lovely voice."

He walked over to the seated woman and took her hand, kissing it reverently, before walking over to his wife. He kissed Bellatrix softly on the cheek before wrapping his arm around her waist and turning to look at Druella once more.

"I'm sorry," he said after a moment. "Am I interrupting something…?"

"Mother was just leaving," Bellatrix said stiffly. She turned her nose up and looked towards the door as Druella stood, smoothing her ivory skirt. Rodolphus bowed his head respectfully once more as Druella made her way to the middle of the room.

"Think about what I said, Bellatrix," she offered once more, before disappearing with a loud pop.

Bellatrix allowed herself to be pulled into Rodolphus' embrace. She found herself more grateful than usual for his presence, especially since he was one of the few people who knew how draining a conversation with Druella Black could be. Bellatrix wrapped her arms around him and let her weight fall against him. Rodolphus chuckled a bit and kissed his wife's forehead.

"What did she want this time," he jested. "Was she here to protest our new stemware?"

Bellatrix looked up at her husband in astonishment for a moment before laughing for the first time in days. She tangled her fingers into his hair and pulled his face down so their lips met. After a few minutes of playful banter about her mother's impossible tastes, she sent her husband back to the other room and returned to her seat by the fire.

She breathed heavily and slowly, trying to calm herself. All through her conversation with her mother, she'd been considering her options. Rodolphus' interruption was a wonderful break from the argument she'd been having with herself. Now that he had once again left, she allowed herself to come to terms with the fact that if the snatchers did not return within the week, she would have to join them and finish the job herself.

_Damn._


	8. Chapter 8

8.

Bellatrix Lestrange hesitated before grabbing the snatcher's arm. The girl looked and smelled like she hadn't used soap in weeks. Even though she was breathing through her mouth, Bellatrix could smell the stench of werewolves and the unmistakable smell of human filth on her escort. She was not looking forward to this trip, but unfortunately, it was something that had to be done.

Bellatrix felt Angelica's hand close over her own, and took a deep breath. She herself had no idea where the snatchers were camping out for the time being, which is why Angelica had been sent to fetch her. Bellatrix didn't trust werewolves, with the exception of Greyback, and Angelica was one of the only two non-werewolf snatchers that were in her employ for the time being. The pack would have been useless without Greyback, so he had sent Angelica in his stead.

Bellatrix felt her stomach lurch as they apparated to the predestined meeting point.

She relinquished Angelica's arm and took a step away from her guide. As her eyes adjusted to the blinding sunlight, Bellatrix slowly took in her surroundings.

_Snow, trees, mountains_, she thought to herself. _That certainly narrows it down…_

Though the forest she found herself in bore a tremendous resemblance to the forest in which she trained with Greyback, she could tell by the surrounding land that she was nowhere near the forest with which she was familiar. Turning back to face Angelica, she realized that her companion was now a good distance from her, hands in her pockets, trudging up the snowy mountainside.

Bellatrix knelt down and tightened the laces of her boots, making sure her pants were tucked in sufficiently before picking up her pace to catch up to Angelica. She didn't know much about this girl besides the fact that she'd been in school with Rodolphus, and seemed only to speak when it was certain to get her in trouble. Greyback had once mentioned that because she didn't speak much, he figured she wasn't very intelligent, but when it came to snatching ministry officials, she knew what she was doing. Despite her plain looks, she'd been useful to the group when it came to getting male targets alone to procure them without making a scene.

_I suppose if it's taken them this long to get ahold of one man, it's about time that I try to get to the bottom of whether I should or shouldn't continue to pay these idiots, _Bellatrix thought.

"Angelica," Bellatrix shouted, prompting the other girl to stop walking and turn to face her with a questioning look. "I want to talk to you for a moment."

Bellatrix broke into a jog to close the distance between them as Angelica watched her with an amused smirk. Apparently she had been unaware that Greyback had conditioned Bellatrix to be effective at travelling through most terrains, regardless of weather conditions. Despite her propriety, Greyback had managed to teach her a lot about how to survive on her own.

"Done this before, have you?" Angelica quipped as Bellatrix approached.

"Once or twice," Bellatrix responded offhandedly, not wanting to get into detail. "Why do you think you haven't managed to catch Collins yet?"

_Way to approach the subject delicately, Bellatrix. Oh Merlin, I'm turning into my mother. _

Angelica appeared confused at Bellatrix's sudden questioning. Whether it was because Bellatrix was asking a question that required an intelligent answer, or because Angelica hadn't counted on being bombarded with questions, Bellatrix didn't know. Either way, it took the witch a moment before she could supply an answer. In the interim, the girls stood looking at each other.

"Incompetence," Angelica replied matter-of-factly, and continued walking.

Bellatrix continued beside her, waiting for her to elaborate on her answer. When it became clear that Angelica did not intend to compound on her answer, Bellatrix prodded further.

"Whose? Incompetence in what way?"

"Everyone's. There were times that we were close, but we didn't succeed for one reason or another."

"Who specifically? What situations?" Bellatrix watched Angelica roll her eyes. It was obvious that she didn't want to answer any of Bellatrix's questions, however, that wasn't exactly an option at this point. They were now three days away from the deadline of delivering the head of the Department of Mysteries, a mark that the snatchers had been working towards for weeks.

"Who specifically? A team is only as strong as it's weakest member. It could have been any of us, that isn't important. And, uh, a situation… well, there was a moment where we had him cornered in Nice, but they had been expecting us. As if they knew exactly when we were coming. It turned out that one of Greyback's men had been confunded to tell us exactly where to go and when to be there."

"What do you think could have prevent—"

"He's the bloody head of the Department of Mysteries, Bellatrix. Not just a Ministry official. I don't think you realize that this isn't exactly a typical snatch-and-return type situation. He's the head of the Department of Mysteries for a reason. He's not an idiot." Angelica's voice was laced in obvious frustration. She was exhausted from being on a chase for weeks; Bellatrix knew this, yet she still considered Angelica's tone of voice unacceptable.

"Look," Bellatrix replied firmly. "I'm not asking you to lecture me on what you think I do and don't realize, because odds are, I know a lot more than you think I do. I'm asking you these questions because I'm here to help you get this done on time; because I need to be on the same page as you if I'm going to be of any use to you at all."

Angelica looked recalcitrantly at the younger witch, and bit her tongue. Bellatrix knew if she'd been anyone other that the person who was responsible for her paychecks, Angelica probably wouldn't have dropped the subject as quickly as she did. The two continued to walk up the steep mountain in silence.

It was not until they'd reached a flat, heavily treed area that any noise was heard. A rustling in the distance ahead of them followed by a high pitched squeal caused them both to freeze and take out their wands. Walking shoulder to shoulder, the girls advanced slowly and quietly, listening intently for any more noises.

Another yelp, this time off to Angelica's right, caused the girls to freeze again and hold their position. They could hear the sounds of running accompanied by heavy breathing. Bellatrix could feel Angelica's hand on her side, pulling her from her position beside her to being partially obscured by the older witch.

Bellatrix fought against Angelica's grip, giving up after a moment and peering over her companion's shoulder. The running was getting closer; if trees hadn't mostly surrounded them, she knew they'd easily have been able to see the other person by now. Then another sound, a growling that both girls recognized, came from the distance. It seemed to be following the first noise.

"Greyback," Angelica confirmed. "He must be on someone's trail." She raised her wand offensively once again in the direction of the running, and behind her, Bellatrix prepared to assist.

Suddenly, out of the trees, a man was running by. Pulling his pants up as he ran and carrying a bundle of clothes that didn't appear to be his, Bellatrix quickly recognized the man as Scabior, the other snatcher she'd hired to assist Greyback. He was laughing hysterically and upon seeing the girls, he ran to hide behind them, putting his finger over his lips to signal them to keep his secret. Angelica smacked him on the back of the head and turned to face Bellatrix.

"Apparently," she began, motioning to the man using her as a human shield, "We've caught up to the pack."

Bellatrix stepped back, putting space between her and the strange man crouching behind Angelica. She looked at him incredulously, trying to fathom how someone who she was supposed to be paying to do a specific job would justify running around and giggling like a maniac when he should have been searching for a target. Before she even had the opportunity to speculate, however, Greyback came running out of the forest completely naked. The wad of clothing in Scabior's hands now made sense.

Whether he saw Bellatrix and Angelica or whether he had simply ignored their presence was unclear, but within a few seconds Greyback had made his way to the small group. Furiously, he grabbed Scabior by his hair, pulling him to his feet, while the smaller man adopted an impish look of innocence. With his free hand, he reached out to grab his clothing and dropped Scabior, who let out a slight gasp through his fit of giggles. Bellatrix cleared her throat and Greyback turned to face the two girls.

"Afternoon, Miss Black," the man said while untangling the ball of clothing in his hands.

"Lestrange," Bellatrix corrected.

"Whatever." Greyback pulled up his pants quickly and nodded at Angelica. "So, you managed to get her here in one piece, didja?"

"Sorry to disappoint," came Angelica's sarcasm laden reply. Greyback grinned at her as she turned and continued walking in the direction from with Greyback and Scabior had just come running.

Scabior had stood up and was dusting himself off when he finally spoke.

"Sorry you 'ad to see that," he said loudly, pointing at Greyback. "You'll be sure t'have nightmares for weeks." He grinned cheesily and leaned against the wolf, who pushed him away violently, causing him to trip over an exposed root. Once more, the snatcher was howling in laughter from the ground.

(Author's Note: Sorry for taking so long to update! I've had a busy week with finals and personal stuff, but thank you for all the emails and favorites! :) I'll be sure to get back on top of updating. Hopefully back into the swing of every other day. Hope you enjoy! xx)


	9. Chapter 9

9.

"_Crucio!"_

The dark haired girl clenched her blood stained jaw to keep from screaming as her body contorted. Her blood suddenly felt like flames, coursing through her body, scorching her veins, her organs; burning her muscles. Her hands clenched into fists, her fingernails digging into her palms, blood seeping slowly from beneath her iron grip.

_This is it,_ she said to herself. _I'm done for. They're going to kill me on the floor of this villa and there's nothing that can be done._

She felt the curse lift from her body, and she looked up at the man standing over her with tears running down her cheeks. He wasn't much older than she, but he regarded her with cold eyes, a subtle smile creeping across his lips. He was proud of his work. He sniggered as she rolled her broken body into the fetal position, pulling her legs against her chest protectively.

"Please," she begged, though she didn't move from her pitiful position. "Please, I'm trying to help. I need to warn him. He needs to know…"

"And why should we believe anything that you have to say, hm," the guard retorted quickly, his look of arrogance fading quickly. "You're probably just trying to get close enough to him that you can apparate with him in your grasp. Your family is full of Lord Voldemort's most loyal servants. Why the devil would we believe Bellatrix Lestrange?"

Her breathing slowed and she pushed herself into a seated position as silent sobs wracked her body.

"I'm taking your punishment," she choked out. "You have my wand; I gave it to you willingly. I'm laying here at your feet, begging." She looked at him once more, practically pleading with him. "Why _wouldn't_ you believe me? Do you think I'd have put myself in this position if I wasn't being genuine?"

There was a circle of aurors around her; certainly more aurors than she'd have expected. Did they consider her a threat? She kept her gaze locked on the man who had his wand pointed at her throat. She held out her forearm to let him see that she bore no dark mark. Her lip quivered as she heard the aurors around her laughing, and murmuring to each other.

"_Pathetic," _one of them said.

"_I can't believe she'd dare to show her face here…"_

"_I thought the Black girls were supposed to be attractive,"_ quipped another.

Suddenly, there was a scream, followed by a loud noise outside the villa. The aurors jumped to attention, a few of them running outside, two running towards the back of the villa, towards the department head's suite. Bellatrix scrambled to her knees and crawled towards the young auror who was still pointing his wand at her.

"Please," she begged again, "please, you have to hide me… If they know I'm here…" Her voice broke off into a sob. "If—if they knew I'd come to you… they'd kill me…"

The man grabbed her by the hair and pulled her to her feet, pushing her towards an empty room off the foyer. Bellatrix saw her wand in his pocket, which meant that defending herself may yet be an option. She was shoved into the room and he locked the door behind them. She could hear screaming outside the room, and every time she heard a curse, she'd shy away from the door in fear.

_I'm eighteen years old. I shouldn't be here, this is-_

The auror looked at her in disgust. "You _do_ know how to defend yourself, don't you?" He held up her wand, watching her closely as her eyes lit up with relief. He threw the scared young witch her wand and gave her instructions. "I'm going out there. If anyone comes in, just stun them, we'll deal with punishment ourselves."

Bellatrix took her wand carefully, her eyes still glistening with tears, but shaded by fear. She nodded at the auror and he turned towards the door. She looked down at her wand for a moment, and when she looked up, the auror turned back as if to add to his instructions.

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

The auror's face went blank and he fell heavily. She looked at him for a moment before moving towards the door, stepping on the still warm body of the man who'd just spent an hour torturing her. She threw open the door and walked back into the foyer, looking around passively.

A few of Fenrir's men were still dueling some of the more persistent aurors. Fenrir himself was engaged in a wrestling match that was sure to end quickly with Fenrir as the champion. Scabior was leaning against a wall, watching with a cigarette in his hand. A hand grabbed her arm from the side and she turned to find herself face to face with Angelica.

"Come on," the other witch urged. "They've got this under control and there are two of Greyback's pups who have Collins restrained in a back room. That's where we're headed."

The girls took off running towards the back of the villa, where the man was being held. They could hear Greyback and the remaining men running after them. Angelica grabbed Bellatrix's arm and they both grabbed at the insolent looking department head. With no time wasted, Bellatrix closed her eyes and thought of the one place she wanted to be.

When she opened her eyes again, she was standing in the middle of her room with Collins and Angelica. She released both of their arms and stumbled backwards from them. Nearly three weeks she'd been gone; much longer than she could have anticipated. Three weeks without contact to her family. Three weeks of sleeping in the wilderness with wolves. But they'd gotten what they had been searching for.

_Finally._

Bellatrix nodded to Angelica, who flicked her wand at the man, stunning him, and dragged him by the collar out of the room.

As soon as Angelica was out of the room, Bellatrix's breathing quickened, and her heart raced. She hadn't allowed herself to react to anything that had happened until that moment. She couldn't show them that she'd been in pain. She had to show the snatchers how to take pain and bodily harm like a professional.

But she wasn't a professional; not by a long shot. Her body was breaking quickly. She couldn't even move to sit on the bed. She stared down at her blood caked nails, and her palms, which were still oozing blood where her nails had cut the skin. She wrapped her arms around her stomach and closed her eyes, trying to block out the pain.

Rodolphus sat silently at the large table in the dining room. In front of him sat another meal that would go untouched. He swirled the large glass of wine against the table, watching the liquid swish around rhythmically, changing direction every once in a while, mesmerized. He was trying to remember the last conversation he had with his wife. What had she been wearing? He was sure that she smelled of vanilla, as always. She'd kissed him and promised to be home within a couple days. His owls had all returned to him with his letters still in their grasp. She'd disappeared.

The record he had been listening to ended abruptly, and his eyes focused on the elf who was hobbling over to flip it over. It was the same routine nearly every evening. A meal he wouldn't eat, a glass of wine he wouldn't drink, music that reminded him of Bellatrix, and then he would go to bed and toss and turn all night. Every noise could have been her coming back to him.

As the needle touched the record and the first sound of horns blared from the player, he heard a loud pop. He flicked his wand at the record player, silencing it, and sat unmoving, focused, listening for sounds of movement. A moment passed before he heard a thud, and then heavy footsteps, and what sounded like someone dragging something large.

He stood quickly, knocking his chair over, and ran to the base of the stairs. Looking up, he could see the female snatcher, whose name he didn't know, hunched over, dragging someone. He took the stairs two at a time, but as he got closer, he could tell it wasn't Bellatrix. His heart sank. Maybe she hadn't come back. The girl nodded wordlessly at the bedroom door and continued dragging the stunned man down the stairs.

Slowly, Rodolphus approached the door, and slowly, he pushed it open. The door, which had a nasty habit of creaking at the worst times, had done him the decency of remaining silent this time. He watched as his wife's breathing became more rapid, and she appeared to be inspecting her hands.

He closed the door behind him as quietly as he'd opened it, and took a few steps into the room. The floor creaked under his weight, and Bellatrix turned quickly to face him, fear in her eyes.

They stood staring at each other for a second, as if each one didn't believe that the other was real. Rodolphus' heart ached for Bellatrix. Her face was swollen on one side, and there was a cut somewhere on her head that had bled profusely, covering her face, neck, and chest in now dried blood. Her shirt was ripped and blood stained. Her hair fell in greasy tresses around her tired face. She looked like she'd been crying.

He quickly closed the distance between them, taking his broken wife into his arms, holding her protectively. He cursed himself for allowing her to go without him. He'd made the mistake of allowing her to be alone with that pack of _dogs_ before, and this wasn't the first time that he'd hated himself for doing so.

He stroked her hair and whispered to her reassuringly. He could feel her shivering violently, as if she was trying too hard to breathe and her body could no longer handle the stress of it. She was crying now, and he didn't want to say anything to her now, in case it made things worse. For now, he would just hold her. For now, he would keep her close. For now, he would refrain from ripping her merry band of snatchers limb from limb.


	10. Chapter 10

10.

Rodolphus stepped back from the bloodied man, taking a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiping his hands. He threw the soiled fabric at the man on the ground, and took a step towards the stairs. He took a deep break, drawing the damp dungeon air into his lungs, turning back to Greyback. He wasn't nearly as threatening in human form.

"Be sure to pass the message along to the others," he snarled. He spat at the werewolf before bounding up the stairs, still seeing red. He'd have loved nothing more than to have spent the entire day beating Greyback and the rest senseless, but he needed to get back to Bellatrix, who was still in the process of healing after her attempt at assisting the snatchers. As he reached the top of the dungeon's stairs, he could just barely hear Greyback getting to his feet below.

As soon as he closed the door to the cellar, he turned towards the stairs, taking them two at a time, up to his room. As soon as he walked in, though, he found himself face to face with his wife, who was carrying a tray of tea and a plate of fudge. Only it wasn't his wife. She looked younger than Bellatrix, and her hair wasn't nearly as dark. He should have recognised Andromeda from the wedding; she'd been Bellatrix's maid of honour. But now, up close to her, he finally realised just how striking the resemblances were.

He smiled at her and bowed his head. Normally he'd have questioned why she was in his bedroom, but he already knew the answer. He looked past Andromeda to his wife, who was facing away from him on the bed. He took a couple steps into the room when he was stopped by Andromeda's sharp voice.

"I've only just got her to sleep, if you wake her, I'll end you." Andromeda's look was fierce. Rodolphus had heard that Andromeda and Bellatrix were quite close, but he'd no idea that she would be so protective of her older sister.

"So, I can't touch my own wife?"

"I'd prefer you didn't." Andromeda spoke plainly and definitively. Rodolphus got the uneasy feeling that if he'd tried to go to Bellatrix now, it wouldn't end well for him. He turned to face her as she continued. "Besides. Your wife, my sister. It's a question of semantics. But there's no questioning the fact that my relationship with Bellatrix has seniority. So keep away. She'll never get better if you don't give her room to breathe."

Andromeda's voice was acidic. Rodolphus had never been shown so much hostility by any member of the Black family. Andromeda had no reason to be so cold with him. He'd been helping take care of Bellatrix since she'd returned, and for Andromeda to show up like this and demand that he stay away from her was absolutely uncalled for.

"I'd appreciate it if you'd not speak to me as if I'm the reason that she's in this state," he replied calmly. His voice was filled with propriety but laced with rage. "I've been looking after Bellatrix. I have the best healers coming in from wherever I can find them."

"Obviously," Andromeda replied, mirroring his cool manner. "I can only imagine the mastery level of these healers, considering when I got here, she was spitting up blood and coughing so hard she could barely breathe, and yet here I stand, ten minutes later, and she's sleeping like an infant. Congratulations on the completion of your quest for incompetent healers. Next time, you should consider just asking someone who _actually_ knows how to soothe Bellatrix, instead of counting on what you think you know about her."

"Just leave, Andromeda," Rodolphus spat, finally allowing his true frustration to come through. "Thank you for helping her but please, just go."

"Do you think that's what Bellatrix would want, Rodolphus, for you to eject me from your home? I've not seen my sister in weeks and she seemed positively overjoyed to see me. Perhaps we should wait until Bellatrix wakes up, then we can ask her whether she wants me to leave."

Andromeda smirked up at Rodolphus. She knew that if Rodolphus thought that Bellatrix wanted her to stay, he'd not ask Andromeda to leave. She may not have liked him much, but she had to admit that he did care about her sister. And though she may fight it tooth and nail, and she'd never admit it, she knew that Rodolphus would do everything in his power to take care of the sister that Andromeda loved so dearly.

Rodolphus had no counter-argument to Andromeda's suggestion to wait for Bellatrix to wake before she left. Unfortunately, he knew that Andromeda was right, and the last thing that he wanted to do was to upset Bellatrix, especially in the state that she was in. Instead, he sighed and gave in to Andromeda's request.

"The bedroom at the end of the hall is made up and ready for a guest," he conceded to her. "You're welcome to stay there. I'll let the elves know so that they don't try to clean it again while you're sleeping." They'd actually done something similar to Druella earlier in the week when she'd come to visit, and though it had been a great source of entertainment for Bellatrix and Rodolphus at the time, he doubted very much that Bellatrix would find it as amusing when the victim was her sister, not her lovely mother.

As Andromeda walked out of the room, she turned and shot one last warning glare at Rodolphus. He silently closed the door behind her, and then crossed the room, sitting on the bed beside Bellatrix. When she didn't stir, he took her into his arms, hugging her to his chest. Andromeda had certainly done a wonderful job of getting Bellatrix into a deep sleep. She barely did more than adjust her head against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her protectively.

He hated that there wasn't much that he could do. Physically, Bellatrix would be absolutely fine. But it wasn't the physical damage that he was worried about. She'd been tortured, possibly for hours. He'd not been able to get a straight story out of anyone since they'd returned. He wasn't even entirely sure whether it had truly been part of the plan.

As he settled down into bed, Bellatrix still securely in his arms, he slowly began to drift off to sleep, reveling in the knowledge that somewhere, Andromeda was firmly disapproving of his decision to ignore her warning. He'd had a rather satisfying day, all things considered. He'd spoken to the Dark Lord about assigning someone else to lead the snatchers, tortured Greyback for allowing his wife to be hurt, and now Bellatrix was sleeping soundly for the first time in days.

He didn't even see the large, snowy, owl as it flew silently into the room, dropping a crimson envelope at his feet.

Bellatrix was awake. She couldn't open her eyes, and she had the distinct feeling that if she tried to sit up, she would end up in more pain than she could imagine, but at least she was awake. She felt as if she'd slept for weeks. She ached everywhere, and her jaw was still throbbing, not that she'd expected that to stop hurting anytime soon. Andromeda was a good healer, but to completely eradicate that kind of pain—

_Andromeda._

Her sister had been there when she fell asleep. Her sister may have been the reason that she fell asleep. Whether it was out of long sought after comfort, or whether her sly little sister had slipped something in her tea, she'd never know. But she didn't care. Andromeda had found a way to ensure that Bellatrix got the rest that she needed. And Andromeda would never leave without saying goodbye.

Bellatrix sat upright in bed, quickly. She forced open her eyes and looked around the room, her vision still blurry. There was no one else in the room. There were no voices, no sounds of life that she could hear. Perhaps Andromeda and Rodolphus had finally killed each other. She laughed a bit to herself, but immediately stopped when she felt stabbing pain in her chest.

As she became more lucid, she could hear that the shower was running.

_Rodolphus._ She smiled painfully and pushed herself to the edge of the bed. Forcing herself to her feet, she faltered only for a moment. She briefly toyed with the idea of going to join her husband in the shower, but she wasn't sure how long she'd be able to stay standing without assistance. Instead, she walked towards the door, headed for the room that she knew Rodolphus would have offered to Andromeda, had she chosen to stay.

She made her way down the hall unsteadily, leaning against the wall for support. She knew all too well that her sister was going to be less than pleased when she saw that Bellatrix had made such an effort to walk, especially after the fuss she made when she'd first arrived about Bellatrix being in no condition to be feeding herself, let alone walking around. It wasn't very far from their bedroom to the guest room, but with every step, pain shot through her legs. Had she not been walking to see Andromeda, it would have been unbearable.

When she reached the room, she pushed the door open a couple of inches, peering in silently. Andromeda was asleep, and from the lighting in her room, it appeared that it was late in the evening. Bellatrix smiled and pulled the door closed, then shuffled back to her own room.

As she was crossing the room to take her usual seat by the window, something caught her eye, something that she hadn't noticed as she was leaving. On the table in front of the fire, there was a deep red envelope, which appeared to have been already opened. She made her way to the couch and picked up the envelope, making sure that she could still hear the shower running.

Pulling the letter out of the envelope, Bellatrix could already identify the person who had written it. Lord Voldemort's handwriting was positively unmistakable. Her heart sank with each line that she read. She hadn't noticed when the shower was turned off. She hadn't noticed her husband watching her, his eyes filled with apology. She did nothing but stare at the letter until Rodolphus walked over and kneeled in front of her.

Gently taking the letter from her hands, he placed it on the table and reached up, cradling his wife's face in his hands. She looked as though she was on the verge of tears. Instead, she spoke.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I'm so sorry." Her voice came out in bursts, as if she was sobbing, though her eyes remained tear-free.

Rodolphus smiled up at her and leaned in, kissing her forehead.

"Ne sois pas désolé," he crooned. "Tout ce qui importe, c'est que tu es en sécurité." He ran his fingers through his wife's hair.

"The only thing that matters," he reiterated, "is your safety. I would much rather that it be me who has to pay for the late delivery of the ministry man than for it to be you who has to pay for it. Andromeda has already agreed to stay while I'm gone, and Angelica is staying behind as well. You'll be safe here."

"How long will you be gone?"

"Je ne sais pas," he replied. "You read the letter, mon amour. You know as much as I do. He is, however, pleased at the initiative that you took in helping the snatchers."

Bellatrix sank to the floor beside him, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding him close, yet she still could not cry. She felt as if her entire world was falling apart little by little. First she'd been called on a mission that she'd almost lost her life for, and now her husband was being forced to pay for her mistake. The presence of Andromeda suddenly seemed a small comfort, and the presence of Angelica was an even smaller one.

"Everything will be fine," Rodolphus reassured her. "I'll be back before you even know I'm gone." He stood, taking her hands and pulling her to her feet, gently easing her towards their bed. She sat and he walked around to the other side, climbing in, and pulling her over to him. She lay her head on his chest, letting everything sink in.

According to the letter, Rodolphus was to leave the following morning at daybreak and apparate to a safe house outside of town, which she assumed that he already knew the location of. He would be gone an unfathomable amount of time, which, regardless of it's true length, would seem like lifetimes, and then he would come back, hopefully unscathed. Her world would continue turning, and with Andromeda's help, she would survive his absence.

She closed her eyes and steadied her breathing, monitoring and adjusting the rise and fall of her chest to match his. If this was to be her last night with him for a while, she wanted to remember everything about him. She wanted to memorise the way his heartbeat sounded as he was falling asleep and the feel of his fingers on her skin. She wanted to remember the way his muscles would tense unpredictably in his sleep, and the way that he unconsciously pulled her closer in the middle of the night.

"Faites les rêves doux," he whispered. "Je t'aime."

"I'm not saying it," she replied, her voice childlike. "I'm not saying it until you're back safe. I'm not saying it until I can hold you and kiss you again. I'm not saying it because if I don't say it now, then it means that you have no choice but to come back to me, so that I can say it when I see you again." Her logic was, of course, hopelessly flawed, but Rodolphus chuckled and traced circles on his stubborn wife's back.

Bellatrix sighed, not wanting to fall asleep. Come morning, her husband would be gone. She tried everything she could think of to stay conscious. She busied herself trying to remember songs, thinking of places she and Rodolphus had been together, and as a last ditch effort, she even began opening and closing her jaw, hoping that the pain would keep her awake longer. Despite her best efforts, she was asleep within minutes.

When she awoke, Rodolphus was gone, and she could finally cry again.


End file.
